Chapter 4
Chapter Four
WILL
We finish the Indian food, leaving only a couple of poppadoms. I can’t leave it to waste, so I break some off and fling it in Alice’s direction. She screams, sloshing the last of her wine on the laminated floor, and I hunch over in laughter.
‘I’d say that calls for another wine,’ I say between giggles, heading to the kitchen and looking at my wine rack. ‘We’re on the third bottle already.’
‘I think that’s because of you,’ she says as I return, refreshing our glasses before slumping back down.
Alice moves closer, and I lean my head against her shoulder.
‘We should watch something corny,’ she says with a sigh.
‘With ice cream.’
‘How about Romy her hand must be made of asbestos. She gasps. The perfect, melodramatic kind. I feel vindicated.
‘He did not.’
‘He did.’ Why did my voice sound so choked? ‘He invited me to the wedding.’
‘They only just bloody announced it. It’s seven months away. Why so fast?’
‘Forced.’ I can’t stop myself on speculating. ‘Oh, poor Ollie, forced against his will to marry someone at long last.’ Has to be the only logical explanation. I mop my brow for dramatic effect.
‘But he loves marriage.’
‘An arranged marriage.’
‘Be serious, Will.’ Alice rolls her eyes.
‘Fine. Maybe he just couldn’t wait any longer.’
Taking the phone back from her, I try to get inside Ollie’s head.
Why?
Why would Ollie want me at his wedding?
I pace, lapping around my apartment as though it were an Olympic sport. It’s frightful, but also uncontrollable.
We’re friends. The type of friends that can go a year without talking but slip right back into it like they’ve only been apart a few hours. That’s what this is. A friend inviting me to their wedding. Completely normal. Fine. Absolutely.
Besides, this gives me enough time to reach out to him, show I’m happy and fine, show him that I think this is normal, because it is, but to me, it is not.
‘Alec’s last name is Aniston, isn’t it?’
‘You know that because?’
Alice looks at me. ‘The screenshots you sent me, and the fact you told me you can’t look at Rachel Green the same way.’
‘Ah, yes.’
Alice holds up her hands. ‘Well, that’s Greek. Alec might have family there.’
Of course, Alec Aniston had a Greek family. Why wouldn’t he? One more perfect bow to his perfect life.
‘Oh, Alice, what do I do?’
‘Go.’
I stop pacing. A good thing because I’d put a hole in the floor if I continued.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Go,’ Alice repeats. ‘You clearly want to go.’
Not for the first time today, I find myself on the floor. It helps. I fold like burning paper. Lying my head against the cold floor grounds me as a monstera plant leaf brushes my face. I imagine trying to relax in Greece, acting as if everything was fine.
Athens. Greece. My first time in Greece would be to witness my ex-boyfriend, who I have no feelings for, but totally have feelings for, marry someone else.
I guessed we would end up in Greece together after all. Just not together.
‘Will, you’re scaring me.’
‘Why?’
‘You’ve gone pale,’ Alice says. ‘And you’re not blinking, and you’re whispering Athens to yourself like you’ve been possessed.’
‘Sorry.’ A couple of rapid blinks later, and I sit up again, leaning against the wall.
Melodramatic Will strikes again.
I light another Nag Champa.
‘What would Romy and Michele do?’
Romy announces her intention of inventing Post-it notes.
‘Lie?’ I ask.
‘No.’
‘Ask for a business woman lunch?’
‘Reinvent themselves,’ Alice says. ‘Prove to Ollie how over him you really are.’
‘But I’m not.’ The words escape me before I can stop them, but Alice doesn’t show any surprise. ‘I’m not, Alice. I never have been.’
Alice holds my hand, giving me a sad, soft nod. ‘He doesn’t have to know that, does he?’
She’s right. Why does Ollie still have a hold on me? Why am I letting his decision to let me go influence every waking moment of my life? I have two options. Option one: ignore it and forever be known as the boy who didn’t go to Athens.
And worse still, be the butt of all jokes at their wedding as the ex who didn’t show up.
Option two: support a friend. Suck it up. Like Rachel going to Barry’s wedding.
Then show off the reinvention of me. Find myself a boyfriend. Show him I’m thriving, too. Congrats on your wedding, Ollie, I’d say, but I’m getting married next week, too.
Yes. Go to Athens. Be a new me.
I could do that.
Then a third option comes to mind. An option I shouldn’t want, but can’t be dismissed, because love is messy and I’m a mess.
I could see Ollie again, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll realise he wants me back.
I give Alice the side-eye, as if she might be reading my thoughts.
‘So, accept the invite?’ I ask, my wine-brain a little confused.
‘Accept the invite.’ Alice holds out my phone, a hint of resignation in her voice.
I accept the invite.
Athens, here I come.